Fidelity
by Katiesmom07
Summary: House/Wilson SLASH oneshot fic set just after 'Fidelity' S1E7 where all the affair talk gets Wilson a little worried about the state of his and House's relationship.


Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own the two sexy men you're about to read about. But if I do ever get a chance to purchase them, I will definitely NOT be sharing! LOL

Author's Notes: I have decided to embark on a little adventure. I have recently been popping in my old DVDs of season one of House and I was thinking of what I thought of the House/Wilson relationship at that exact point. So, I will be writing several oneshot fics each taking place directly after the episode they are named for. There will be spoilers for the episode mentioned, not that will matter since I'm sure each of us have already seen these eps, but I thought I'd better mention it or get scolded! Please keep in mind that I tried to push all information out of my mind except exactly what was given to us in the episode titled and previous episodes. Also, this will **not be a series**, saying that you will NOT have to read this one to read the next. Nothing that happened in this one will be mentioned or will have happened in the next. The only connection is that they will all be House/Wilson mostly SLASH fics. Hope you enjoy!

Fidelity

I was lying on my sofa, flipping thru the stations of my television, waiting. Of course, Thursday night wasn't normally our night together, but something told me that morning would not come before I saw his pretty, yet frazzled face. Some excuse would pass his lips, giving Julie even one more reason to hate me, not that I cared, and Wilson would come to me. He had to.

I had been messing with him at work even more than usual, harping on him about having an affair. He had admitted to lunch with a nurse, which I honestly couldn't care less about. But I didn't need to let him know that just yet.

We were into the fifth year and his second marriage of our secret relationship and I still hadn't tired of tormenting him. Of course being his best man at the last wedding had given me ample leverage for any and all of my deviousness. He had practically begged me after I declined and I had only agreed when he pointed out that people might figure out our secret if I, his best friend, didn't stand up to be his best man. So I stood there, after telling him over and over how much he owed me, and watched him get married. I stayed quiet when asked if there were objections, biting my tongue 'til it bled. I smiled and hugged his new bride and managed to stay for the entire reception, planted in my seat at the open bar.

The first portion of my payback had come the next morning. Most newlyweds stayed attached at the hip, or somewhere in that vicinity, for the first week after their wedding day, but not my Wilson. The morning after his wedding, before he and Julie whisked off to whatever honeymoon spot she's picked out, he'd shown up at my door. We barely made it into the apartment before he started tearing my clothes off. He was only there for twenty minutes, ravishing me for nineteen of them, but they were all I needed. Not even his brand new bride could keep us apart.

And so our relationship went. We spent Friday nights together, always. There were no excuses and no rescheduling. If one of us worked, then we both worked together. If one of us was sick, then the other took control. It was simple. If extra moments came along, we took them, but they were never expected. Nothing ever happened at work, ever. No one was to ever discover our secret. Our relationship would never escalate. It was what it was, and it would forever remain that way.

This was the way I liked it. I knew exactly where I stood. Wilson knew exactly where he stood. Our relationship worked. I understood that he wanted more and he accepted that I couldn't give any more. He filled the voids with his failed marriages and I stood by knowing that unless I was willing to change, I would have to agree to share him with the current Mrs. Wilson. I didn't like sharing him, but I was settled in the fact that even though I was sharing him, I would always come first.

Just as I'd predicted, I heard the telltale scratch of a key in the lock of my apartment door. Without needing to, I turned to watch him walk in, his eyes wide, face just a little paler than usual and hair mussed, having had his hand run through it several times since its last washing. He tossed his jacket onto the chair before flopping into it himself, another indication that he was not his normal self, who would have found a place on the sofa with me.

I settled back onto the sofa and turned my attention back to the television before speaking. "It's Thursday."

His voice was weak when he spoke, almost defeated. "I know that. Julie and I had a fight."

Of course they had, most likely provoked by my best friend so that he could come here to be with me. But out loud I continued my recent badgering. "She find out about the affair?"

"Would you stop with the damn affair talk. It was a lunch!"

His voice had become squeaky, signifying that I had hit a nerve. Part of me, the sentimental, soft side, that nearly no one ever saw, wanted to end the whole game right there. But my conniving, devious side kept the pieces in play. "I told you that I believe you."

"Then tell me what this is about! You trap me at the nurse's station and make accusations about my tie, my _green _tie, which I bought to wear for you. _You _like when I wear green! Then you make a comment about my shoes, the shoes I _had _to shine because _you _spilled maple syrup on them! Do you seriously think I'm cheating on you?"

I flashed him my best 'are you a complete idiot' look. "You're married. Pretty sure that cancels out my right to be mad if you're having _another _affair. _But_ I already share you with one woman, I don't want another one infringing on my time."

He fell back into the chair and ran a hand over his tired face. "This is ridiculous. I can barely manage splitting my time between you and Julie. And the lies I've come up with…no one would believe them. My marriage is falling apart by the second and now I'm actually picking fights with Julie to come make sure you're not breaking up with me."

My first reaction was to be proud of myself for being right about the fight. But my second response moved in quickly. "You actually thought I was going to break up with you?"

His eyes met mine, desperate for me to put his mind at ease. "Aren't you?"

I stared at him in silent disbelief. Of all the times I'd pushed him, he'd never come to this. I delved into his chocolate eyes and found insecurity gazing back at me. He had mentioned lately, quite a few times, that things were going downhill at home. Until that moment, I hadn't realized how serious things had gotten. He was near tears as my eyes fixated on his, fully understanding his fears. The divorce papers must be looming, either they'd been threatened or maybe even delivered. And now, faced with that pending breakup, his heart couldn't help but to expect a second one.

But I would never leave him. I dropped the remote onto the coffee table and waved to him, motioning from him to come join me on the couch. He curled into me like a terrified child, touching the deepest parts of my dark soul. I dug into myself, passed my thick skin and even thicker skull, thru the black cavernous core and found the single part of me that I held just for Wilson. There was that tiny piece of me that held all of the feelings that no one else ever saw. I showed this only to him.

I gathered him close to me, tightening my arms around his weak body. "I'm not leaving you. I'll never leave you." And it is true. I needed him as much as he needed me, probably more.

I felt the damp warmth of his tears form on my shirt as he spoke muffled words into my chest, professing his love, desires and need for me. They were all things I knew and had no need to hear, but I quietly listened, absentmindedly running my fingers thru his dark hair.

Once he was finished, the trembling ceased, tears subsided and words completed he raised his red-rimmed eyes to mine. I granted him a sympathetic smile before asking, "You staying?" With a sniff, he nodded his head. "Good. Let's go to bed."

I held his hand as we walked down the hallway and pulled him in front of me once we entered the bedroom. Slowly, I removed his clothing and pushed him onto the bed. After undressing myself and popping a couple Vicodin, I joined him under the covers. Our lips met instantly. He tasted of stale coffee and moaned into my mouth as our tongues danced together. I felt his body immediately react to my touch. He needed me.

My lips followed the salty trail of his tears down his cheeks and assaulted his neck. He gave me full access to the sensitive skin, accepting the marks my unshaven chin would leave for the next day. I licked and bit at his naked body until I could no longer control his writhing.

With swift movements, I rolled on a condom and slicked on lube. In our favorite position, with him on his back lying in front of me, I pushed inside him. He pushed into my thrust, his back arching off the bed. I watched his face intently, reveling in the fact that no one else could create this reaction from him. This was solely my moment.

As I wrapped my hand around his base and stroked him hard, his body fought with gaining rhythm. I held firmly to his hip with my other hand, stilling him while I formed the rhythm we needed. I matching the strokes of my hand with the thrusts of my hips, feeling his pulsing in my palm match my own. On the verge of my own orgasm, he shouted my name as he spilled his seed over my fingers. The huskiness in his voice pushed me to my own completion.

Moments later, when our breathing returned to normal, he whispered the three words that held us together. "I love you." And he meant it. Through all the teasing, the wives, the girlfriends, the simple fact remained that he truly did love me.

And even though I rarely said it, I loved him too. I wasn't good with words, not ones that involved my own emotions. He understood that. But I tried in my own way to show him what he meant to me.

I walked into the bathroom and returned moments later and tossed a washcloth and towel at him before climbing back into bed beside him. Just as he always did, he curled up to my side. I had learned to adapt to his need to cuddle. With my arm wrapped snuggly around his shoulders I asked, "What's your day look like tomorrow?"

"Couple of appointments in the morning then I was planning on catching up on paperwork in the afternoon. Why?"

"Screw the paperwork. Let's knock off early."

He smiled up at me. "Are you trying to make sure I don't have lunch with a certain nurse?"

"You can have lunch with anyone you please. Just don't let me catch those lunches turning into dinners. If you're going to ditch Julie, it better be for me." He nodded, understanding. "So, how about tomorrow?"

His next words shocked me. "Let's go away for the weekend."

We had never gone away for a weekend, even when we were both single. He was truly worried about our relationship. "What about the wife?"

He was silent for a moment before he voiced what I had already guessed. "Doesn't matter. She's already threatening divorce. That's what our fight was about. We're past saving."

I wanted to tell him that no marriage would ever work because his love for me wouldn't allow it. But I feared breaking his fragile state. Instead, I said what he wanted to hear. "Okay, we'll go away. You plan it." Of course I would give him what he needed. He was my one true weakness. I could deny him nothing.

Satisfied, he snuggled into me. "'Night, Greg."

"'Night, James."

This was our life.


End file.
